


Winter

by firing_maine_cannon



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Gen, basically just my ideas about the meta, neurodivergent Maine can I get a hell yeah?, no? alright that's fair, this is weird I'm weird sorry m8s
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-11
Updated: 2015-07-11
Packaged: 2018-04-08 19:16:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4316586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firing_maine_cannon/pseuds/firing_maine_cannon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maine can't handle the cold alone.</p><p>Set just before the Epsilon-Tex fight so they're in that tundra area.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Winter

Wash awoke to the sound of clattering, metal meeting metal but not quite scraping. It was still the middle of the night, the only light being the dimming campfire and Doc's medical equipment. The aforementioned medic was resting almost dangerously close to the flames, the ex-freelancer guessed snow wasn't his thing. That left him to check on his.... Partner? He didn't know what to call their relationship.  
Looking where the light reached, he couldn't spy that greyed down armor. Then he spotted the faint, broken lights of the warthog they'd used to get there. Gently, he unhooked the flashlight from his hip, turned it on with a click, and began his trek.  
As he trudged through the densely packed snow, he mulled over what exactly the thing was looking for was. Not Agent Maine, but not remnants of Sigma either. It wasn't simply a new being, not The Meta. He couldn't name it precisely. It was like there wasn't anything there at the moment, but they still lived. He could tell.  
He was brought from his thoughts as the clanging sound grew too loud to ignore, and he looked up to see the huge form of Maine. The larger man was trembling violently, hands gripping the wheel tightly as he seemed to heave for air. The outside of his armor was sheeted in a layer of ice, restricting his movements, and Wash even heard a slight crackle with every particular twitch. The disjointed pieces hit each other with each spasm, producing a loud sound that echoed through the night.  
Washington snapped his fingers, gaining Maine's attention at the cost of a tremendous jerk and the ice twinkling away as he turned his head to face him. Maine released a wheeze, barely audible over his shivering. He didn't seem to hear himself, as he repeated the noise over and over until Wash moved towards him. He fumbled for the latches on the EVA helmet, unclamping them and slipping the piece of armor off.  
He could never get used to the face he saw beneath it.  
Wash had previously spent hours of restlessness imagining an expressionless vessel, eyes null of life. He supposed that was initially because of his fear of him. His preconceptions couldn't have been farther from the reality that faced him at the present time.  
His face, though worn through lack of sleep and stress, still felt soft with youth, and held faint smile lines. His expression, however, was ever locked in a state of terror, his flitting constantly about in panic. Even now, despite the man being severely dehydrated, a few tears slithered from his eyes.  
Maine's gaze fluttered towards Wash, briefly locking eyes, before spinning about his features, trying to analyze the younger man's face. After a moment, he seemed satisfied as he continued his wheezing. Wash sighed as Maine's jaws began clinking together in response to the wave of cold that brushed his smooth head. He grabbed Maine's stiff arm, tugging lightly as the other man released a whine.  
"Follow me." He ordered, not missing the way he tensed before starting towards him. Wash suddenly remembered an old conversation, back on the Mother of Invention. Despite blocking most memories out, too many of which being Epsilon's, this one wriggled to the front of his mind as he wrenched Maine from his seat in the warthog. The words echoed in his mind, nearly in tune with the heavy shudders the man now leaning on him emitted.  
"No one's told you yet?"  
"Told me what?"  
"About Maine, about his mental shit."  
"Just tell him, South."  
"Sometimes, when a mission goes bad, you'll find him just standing there, looking everywhere but not doing anything. The creepiest look on his face too. He even does it around the ship sometimes, and you can make him do whatever you want. I once told him to wreck North's room, and I swear he got a good two hours in before he got his shit together."  
"And he helped me fix most of it again. He's not just a mindless tool for a couple hours, he knows what he's doing but he can't stop himself. He described it as not being able to sense anything, can't tell what he's hearing or seeing or anything. Problem is, he can when its over."  
"Sort of like being told things in Portuguese and only learning it later?"  
"Yeah, there you go. Smarts like that get you places, Wash."  
He snapped out of his memories when Maine sat suddenly, dragging him to lay on the cold hard ground before the campfire. Maine uttered a puttering growl as the warmth returned to him, face for once relaxing into a blissful grin as the heat enveloped him. Wash felt a smile creep onto his own lips, shyly tucking it away.  
It was comforting that his greatest fear was only human, yet still has lost his humanity deep within him.

**Author's Note:**

> no way am I lookin over this again it's almost 2 in the damn morning I can only hope it's not shit which tbh


End file.
